#wait he can duplicate

[kaontic]

Little news flash, Megs…Soundwave ain’t so perfect…

[fisheito]

Imagine you have to set up yakumo's enclosure for the next couple months. How do you set it up and what do you put in there?

oh NO.! THE PROPPHECY HAS BEenm FUFILLED

i am standing in my room, leggies rooted to the floor. i am in shock .frozen and i have no idea how to proceed. there is a perpetual pathetically sobbing serpent under my blankie.

[letoasai]

Will work for food

DP x DC An idea that's probably been done before but... here it is again.

~~

It was not an ideal setting for this. Out in the open, debris being their only cover. An unnatural storm closing in. The area had been evacuated but there was still no telling how many civilian eyes could be on them at this very moment. 

The League was scattered, making this current group a touch at odds while away from the majority of their normal teams. 

Batman stood with Red Robin, Flash, Superboy, and Raven. It wasn’t a bad lineup, but things were getting dicy. 

A monster had appeared, a creature foreign to most of them. With it came storms of all kinds, winds, hail, rain. It was a mess but there was nothing natural about it. The hail shattered the pavement. The winds were picking buildings up off their foundations. The blue lightning went without saying. The ice was changing the terrain. The temperature changes were disorienting to most of the heroes.  

Worse was the fact that this creature seemed to be able to duplicate itself, spreading the chaos out to a much wider area. They were having trouble even touching the thing let alone capturing it. 

“Are you sure about this?” Batman asked, a deep frown etched into his face as he watched Raven mark out a summoning circle. 

“It’s the only idea i have.” She said bluntly, shivering from the sudden chill. “That thing is not of this realm. We need something else not of this realm to subdue it.” 

“I hear what you’re saying but summoning a demon to deal with a demon still leaves us with a demon.” Flash said, seeing the flaw in this plan. 

“Unless you know this one personally or something.” Red Robin offered, his voice exhausted. 

“It’s not a demon.” Raven said, tone irritated but it wasn’t like any of them were having a good day. “Depending on how you want to look at it, it’s far worse than a demon. That thing came from the Infinite Realm.” 

Superboy just grunted once, watching her put the finishing touches on her spell circle. “You said that in a tone that said it was in capital letters. What’s the Infinite Realm?” 

“Bad news and something we shouldn’t freaking touch.” Raven answered swiftly. She stood, eyes going over her work. 

“Then what the hell are we doing?” Flash asked quickly, all of them tensed as the wind started to pick up again. If a hurricane was thrown at them, there was little they’d be able to do about it. 

“Raven.” Batman’s voice was serious. “You’re sure?” 

“It’s all i’ve got.” She repeated. “This is not a problem this realm was meant to handle on short notice. We need help.” 

There were several things in that one statement he didn’t like. “Who are you summoning?” 

Raven was looking rather pale herself. “The Ghost King. The King of the Infinite Realm. I’ve heard word that he can be bargained with so… we’re gonna give it a shot.” 

She didn’t wait for permission from anyone else to throw in their two cents on the matter. She threw her hands out, alien words no one else understood on her lips. The chant repeated and the summoning circle began to glow a green that the present Bats didn’t care for. 

It crept up the walls of the summoning circle in oddly pretty patterns before a gaping void opened on the ground. Silently, a figure rose into the circle from that same void. The king was smaller than they’d been imagining the last minute or two. He was human shaped and sized, a black crown floating several inches over his head. He was a wispy figure, face hidden by a large hood but there were strands of white hair floating around their shadowed face. He’d had nothing but a smoky looking tail when he’d first appeared but that had now split into solid looking legs. 

Given his size, he seems like a young adult, but it was hard to say for certain without seeing his face. 

“Woah.” Red Robin muttered, Superboy agreeing with the sentiment. 

“Heroes?” The Ghost King wondered, voice soft and lethargic. “Interesting.” 

Raven bowed her head in a show of respect. “Your Majesty. I apologize for the abrupt summons. We have a dire situation and are willing to make a deal for your help.” 

“A deal…” His voice echoed gently. He spoke as if raising his voice would shatter the very air around them. “That’s not something to choose lightly. What do you want from me?” 

Raven swallowed, her body rigid with nerves. She was almost relieved when Batman took over. 

“As i understand it, we have a being from your realm here in ours. We are underprepared to deal with such destruction and-” 

“Of my realm?” The King interrupted softly, head tipped a little as his attention turned to Batman. “Who?” 

Flash laughed nervously. “We’re not on a first name basis or anything but the guy seems to control the weather.” He pointed up and the sky above them was darkening the longer they spoke. 

The King made a noise like he’d clucked his tongue and it struck all of them as a very human kind of gesture despite his title. 

“I can handle that. Your deal?” 

Raven inhaled again, this obviously being the part she was dreading. “Blood, i have the blood of the Demon Lord Trigon-” 

“Pass.” 

That drew everyone up short. The others didn’t exactly understand the significance of Raven offering her blood but it clearly wasn’t something she’d expected to be declined so quickly. 

“My soul then….” Raven muttered. 

“Raven, no!” Superboy hissed. “The fuck!” 

Batman was also eyeing her unhappily. “Absolutely not. You are not Constantine.” 

Fortunately for the heroes, each of which was ready to revolt for such a barter, the Ghost King waved the thought away. 

“Nah.” He tugged on his hood a little and Batman realized he was likely brushing away one of those white strands of hair from his face. “That’s the thing about being the King of the Infinite Realm. Souls come to me one way or another in time. No need to preorder them.” 

Raven’s shoulders sagged, eyes shifting as she rapidly tried to think of something else she could offer. 

“What do you want?” Red Robin asked before anyone else could say something stupid. “You’re the one that’s going to fight this threat for us. What’s a good deal?” 

The King turned to him and stared. They could only assume he was contemplating his answer when he hummed quietly. “Food.” 

“Wha…” Flash muttered. 

The Ghost King just nodded. “Food from your realm. It’s been…a long time since i’ve eaten.” 

“Really? Like we could go grab you a burger and that would be cool?” Superboy asked, a touch suspicious, but the King just nodded.  

“Deal.” Raven said before anyone would make it worse. “A meal for returning this threat back to your realm.” 

The King nodded again, and each of them backed up several paces when the walls to the summoning circle broke apart and the King stepped out. For the briefest of moments he seemed to nearly stumble under the gravity of actually ‘walking’ but he got over it quickly enough. 

“Can we offer you any assistance?” Batman asked. 

The King shook his head. “No.” He wandered off towards the storm, the floating crown on top of his head seeming a little larger. He moved confidently and with purpose. “Oh Vortex…” He called, walking into the winds. 

He sounded young, but all of them agreed immediately that they never wanted to hear him beckoning them the same way. His tone was dangerous, and he walked right through a car that had been flung in his direction. 

“Cool.” Red Robin muttered. 

“Simmer down, Red.” Superboy muttered. All of them wanted to follow, but with the unstable weather and a literal Ghost King wandering about, staying out of the way felt like the best option. Of course that didn’t mean they weren’t dying of curiosity. 

Flash moved to stand beside Raven, making sure she wasn’t about to topple over because of the power it must have taken to summon a king from another dimension. “You good?” 

“Yeah.” she breathed out a sigh. “Honestly, this was an unforeseen best case scenario. You should really go get that food for him.” 

Batman moved to her otherside, hearing the voices over comms noticing a shift in what was happening. “You think it will be over that fast?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well-” Flash looked up at the sky that was rapidly clearing. “Yep. I’ll be right back.” He was gone in a blur but it was hard to believe a change was happening so quickly. 

“Has it even been a full minute?” Superboy asked. “I mean, damn…” 

“Someone better have been recording visuals.” Red Robin muttered. “We are absolutely missing something amazing.” 

“He’s the King of the infinite Realm.” Raven said. “It’s the realm that connects every other realm and it is as the name implies… infinite. He rules it. I don’t even think Trigon would dare mess with him.” 

Batman had his arms crossed, still listening to the amazed chatter over comms. “Should it be suspicious that all he wants is food?” 

“He made the deal.” Raven shrugged. “He could have asked for anything. Literally.” She stopped speaking when the hooded king returned. He was floating this time though only a foot or two off the ground. He didn’t look tired or dirty or anything. 

Just the same ethereal otherness he’d arrived with. “Done.” He announced. 

“What uh- happened to the guy?” Superboy asked, pointing vaguely at where the storm had been raging. 

The Ghost King just dug into his cape and pulled out…a thermos. “Souped him. He’s gonna have a little time out.” 

“Oh my god, i have so many questions.” Red Robin whispered. 

The thermos was put away and Batman was suppressing his own urge to ask a dozen questions over what just occurred. They’d been struggling with the Infinite creature for hours and countless lives had no doubt been altered. Clean up would take weeks if not months and this Ghost King handled it in minutes. 

“My food?” 

“On the way.” Raven said immediately. “Flash is one of the fastest men on the planet. He’ll be right back.” 

The King nodded and looked around before moving to a pile of bricks that had once been a fence. He sat down and waited, somehow looking regal among the wreckage. 

“So… I’m Red Robin.” Batman looked up again when his son was sliding closer to introduce himself. “Superboy, Raven, Batman.” He gestured and the King’s hood shifted as he followed Red Robin’s introduction of them. “Is there something we can call you or is your Majesty the most appropriate?” 

The Ghost King sat in silence for a moment before reaching up to lower his hood. The shadows that had hidden his face disappeared revealing a young man only a little older than Tim. Maybe around Jason’s age. His hair was indeed white, and was braided down the nape of his neck save for the tufts of hair that floated around his face. 

His skin was pale, and Batman thought it might have been gray or even blue in different light. His ears were pointed and his eyes were a haunting green. 

With the hood out of the way, the crown lowered to sit on his head. 

“Phantom.” He finally answered. “You can call me Phantom.” 

Raven bowed her head again and Red Robin beamed. “Thank you for helping us! We literally couldn’t have done it without you.”

Phantom nodded again but without his hood to shield him there was something shy about the action. 

The Flash reappeared in a cloud of dust, two bags of fast food in one hand and a collection of drinks under the other arm. “I got a little of everything!” He announced. “Got some burgers and some chicken nuggets and fries and onion rings. There’s one of those little apple pies in here somewhere too.

Phantom took the bags with a small smile and set them beside him so he could go through them. Superboy helped with the drinks, setting everything down so Phantom could have his pick. There were three different sodas, a lemonade, and a water. 

It wasn’t fancy and probably wasn’t a fair trade of a meal for his services but he didn’t seem disappointed. 

In a flash of rings made of light, Phantom transformed. The otherness of him was still there, but instead of a noble king of a realm, a young…very living human was in his place. Black hair instead of white was still braided down his neck and the strands around his face hung limp instead of floating. 

Those eerie green eyes were now blue but that– oddly enough– was not the most startling thing about his transformation. He wore a large hoodie and jeans but his feet were bare. 

His hands and feet were almost skeletal, and his face was gaunt and starved looking. His eyes were slightly sunken and his skin was a sickly kind of pale. 

He looked emaciated, but there was the smallest of smiles on his face when he ate one fry and then another. He took a sip from every drink offered to him and then took a bite out of the burger. 

They couldn’t help but stand there and watch, all of them transfixed over what they were seeing. 

Phantom took two more bites before wrapping up the rest of his burger and placing it back in the bag. 

“Not to your liking?” Flash asked, voice small. 

Phantom licked his fingers and shook his head. “No, it was good. I’m just full. I’ll take it with me and eat it later when i’m hungry again.” 

Batman could only imagine the size of his stomach. Stopping now was probably the healthiest thing he could have done if he wanted to keep the food down. He cleared his throat. “Are you alright?” 

“Mhmm.” Phantom nodded, the rings of light appearing again. He was back in his healthier looking ghostly form. That was an oxymoron, wasn’t it? A healthy ghost form… 

“You’re still alive.” Raven whispered, stuck in her shock. “The living shouldn’t… The Infinite Realm isn’t…” 

Phantom’s lips tipped up in a smile. “You’re right, but wrong. I’m both. I’m dead. I’m alive. I’m balance.” He paused for a moment. “I haven’t been in a living realm for a while… guess i’ve been neglecting that side of me. Thanks for the food, it was a good deal.” 

He was gathering up the bags he clearly planned to take with him. 

“You should come back.” Red Robin spat the words out, likely before giving them any real thought. “I’ll take you to lunch. I’ll take you like… all the time. I am not going to pretend to know what you have going on but… shit, Agent A would disown me if i did not offer to feed you.” 

Phantom looked cold briefly. “Agent… A…?” 

Red Robin winced, “Code name for my grandfather. He’s an amazing cook.” 

“Red Robin.” Batman scowled at him. 

“Oh, what? He’s gonna give you the look for you not being the one to offer.” Red Robin said unapologetically, but the explanation had Phantom softening again. “What do you say? Lunch? Do i have to summon you?” 

“Jesus, Red. Let him actually decline or accept.” Superboy was snickering. 

Phantom looked between them, the confusion on his face clearing up after a beat. A piece of paper appeared between his fingers. It had some kind of squiggle on it none of them could read at a glance. He handed it over to Red Robin. 

“Have that on you, say my name. I’ll find you.” Phantom said. “I should…eat again.” 

“We…appreciate you helping us.” Raven added quickly, determined that they make a good impression. 

Phantom’s look grew warmer again. “It was fun.” With his bags and drinks in his arms, he wandered back over to the summoning circle. “I don’t mind helping when the trouble is severe and you were right. This particular problem was mine to clean up. Sorry about him, by the way. Vortex is an asshole.” 

Superboy and Flash both snorted. “Thanks anyway.” 

Phantom nodded at them again, floating in the middle of the circle before his eyes glowed that bright, toxic green again. He slipped inside the void and disappeared as quickly as he arrived, the remains of the summoning circle erasing itself. 

“So… That happened.” Flash muttered, not sure how they were gonna put this in a report to the rest of the League members. Batman wasn’t so sure either. 

“I can’t believe you were just hitting on the Ghost King, Red.” Superboy laughed. “I mean… Lunches?”

“What?” 

Raven was on her phone. “I am already telling Nightwing.” 

“What!? Hey!” Red Robin was looking between them. “I wasn’t hitting on him. You leave Wing out of this!” 

“No way.” 

“You asked him on a date, man!” Superboy grinned. “All the titans are going to know about this in the next hour.” 

“You guys suck!” Red Robin growled, his face a flame. 

Batman just sighed. “There’s clean up to do. Get to work.” 

He definitely did not need to think about his son’s audacity, coming onto a King of an entire realm. Where did he even learn that kind of behavior?

~~

Masterlist

[mutable-manifestation]

The thing is, the batfam have no plans to return the baby to someone they're convinced was experimenting on her.

Human experimentation is Not Cool With Them. They are now coming up with more theories - such as "was he trying to forcibly awaken the meta-gene of a BABY!??"

Because Vlad Masters doesn't have any children, they checked his records the night before (what a pity for them any news person will find records of Dani being Vlad's daughter just fine, her paper delayed to the tragic story behind her birth and journey to her father's care).

Instead, they take her to the cave, entrust her into Alfred's care and Spoiler and Red Robin's watchful eyes, and Batman, Robin, Orphan, and the usually daytime-only Signal roll back out to wait somewhere visible.

It is the middle of summer, and the temperature earlier than day had reached high into the 80s, but exactly 15 minutes after the broadcast and about 20 seconds after the away-team of bats' took up perches on the roof of the police building - whose signal was already on - while Gordan - and Red Hood, who had melted out the nearby shadows the moment they arrived - started asking for answers, Gotham is struck by a sudden blizzard.

The flakes themselves are cold as ice where they brush against faces and build up - already forming a solid layer not 5 seconds in - on the ground.

Despite this, the air itself remains at a steady 78.

Despite this, none of the snow melts - not even where it lands on even warmer skin.

Even through the near white-out conditions, they can see the overwhelming glow of green-green-green that seeps out from some point in the direction of Masters' hotel, accompanied by an overwhelmingly loud, mournful, haunting cry.

The blizzard lightens above them just long enough to see Gotham ever-present clouds all but explode away from the city, chased out but a ring of green and letting all of Gotham see the moon in full detail for about 5 seconds before the blizzard - even with no clouds to make it - picks up with a fury.

The term "GIW" and a full visual had made it easy for Oracle to work her magic, and after only about three dozen times more layers of security than normal they had managed to get some basic information.

"Phantom" was a ghost that resided in Amity Park - which they had just learned had been cut off from most of the world by the government for reasons Oracle hadn't yet had time to look into.

That was it. "A ghost" was a decent amount of information given that they'd all worked with one at some point.

"Make Blizzard" was not a usual part of the skillset.

The entire group had just made it into the building and out of the whiteness by sheer memory when another screaming wail rang through the night, and the power went out.

A moment later the backup generator kicked in, just in time for the blizzard outside to stop, the last of the snowflakes falling to the ground to reveal a Lazarus-green sky, patterned with swirls and dotted with purple.

~~~

For once, Danny was grateful for all of Vlad's experience with scheming.

A few Vlad duplicates at the cities exit roads and one with eyes on the sky would reveal if the bats' tried to make a run for it instead of returning Dani. And if they thought going slow would help them avoid notice, the blizzard would throw a wrench in their escape anyway.

The power outage would hopefully prevent - or at least complicate - any refuels or attempts to communicate with allies.

Neither Vlad nor Danny knew where the Justice League stood on the AEA, but this was not a situation in which they cared to find out.

And in the midst of his anger and distress, when Danny felt a new power coming on, he welcomed whatever chaos it would bring with open arms.

He hadn't expected to suck the entire city into the Ghost Zone, but given it meant Dani could no longer be stolen away (farther than she had been, at least) Danny and Vlad were both counting it as a win.

And turning it to their advantage.

Tucker had hacked the city from Amity Park, so he hadn't come over with them, but Technus' lair was not a 2-minute fly away and the ghost himself easily bribed - 'Thank you, Vlad, for being a nerd,' Danny thought.

5 minutes after the city had been sucked into the zone, every piece of technology once again crackled to life - with or without electricity - and a new voice was broadcast.

"ATTENTION, CITIZENS OF GOTHAM! I, TECHNUS, MASTER OF ALL TECHNOLOGY COME TO YOU WITH A MESSAGE. WELCOME TO THE LAND OF THE DEAD! UNTIL DANIELLE MASTERS IS RETURNED TO HER FATHER, HERE YOU SHALL REMAIN!

ANYONE WHO BRINGS A LIVING BAT TO VLAD MASTERS OR RETURNS DANIELLE MASTERS TO VLAD MASTERS SAFE AND UNHARMED WILL BE GREATLY REWARDED!

THIS CONCLUDES THE MESSAGE THAT I, TECHNUS, MASTER OF ALL TECHNOLOGY HAVE BROUGHT TO YOU!"

Of course, they aren't going to just wait around for the citizens to do the heavy lifting.

No, ultimatum delivered, Phantom, Princess Dorathea, and the Knights of Mattingly descend on the city lead by Skulker.

Invisible Vlad duplicates take Skulkers tips to heart and begin combing the city from the opposite side, while the original Vlad paces in his hotel, cursing himself for never taking a sample of Dani's ectosignature and vowing to do so the moment he gets her back - and he will get her back if they have to reduce the entire city to a smoking crater - so that he can never truly lose her again

# Dcu x Dp 193

Batman and Robin had broken into Vlad Masters Hotel because they found something that was extremely similar to Lazarus water as Damian looks around he ends up in the bed room where he finds a crib that has a sleeping baby in it underneath the crib he finds injections filled with Lazarus water and comes to the conclusion that he is experimenting on this baby. Damian decides that he needs to take her when he leave.

After creating Dani Vlads decided not to age her up and raise her himself. Vlad is using ecto injection keep her stable until he find a permanent solution.

[realcube]

— SAIKI RELATIONSHIP HCS

☆ very hesitant to hug you/hold hands bc he is afraid he might shatter all your bones. prefers kisses, less can go wrong

☆ except that one time he kissed you and was so flustered that a whole galaxy exploded

☆ but it was one of those really distant, useless ones so he moved on

☆ or that time you held his hand and he literally started levitating ??

☆ finishes exams in two seconds then spends the rest of the time annoying you

'i don't mean to disturb you but i noticed you put the wrong answer for question four' 'get out of my head!'

☆ i already wrote a drabble about this but he morphs into different objects to 'prank' you

☆ you always want him to shrink bc what's the point of having a psychic bf if you can't carry him around on your person like a polly pocket

☆ he's very apprehensive about it, however one day he finally agrees to it because you have a shift at work and you really wanted him to join you but it would be weird if he just showed up to your place of work unannounced so he shrunk and you carried him around in your back pocket

☆ that is until you almost sat on him!! and when he dived out to avoid being crushed, he fell onto the sticky work floor covered in dust

☆ still hasn't fully recovered 😿

☆ omg if you are insecure about a physical feature of yours , instead of using his powers to change you, he will use his mind control on the entire world so that your insecurity is now the beauty standard (similar to what he did with his hair)

☆ he doesn't use mind control on you though bc it's rude

☆ in fact he tries to avoid using his powers on you all together bc it would only cause trouble (with the exception of telepathy bc he likes to speak to you.. unlike he does with most people)

☆ and he's very strict with that ethic of his

☆ which is nice and all, and really easy until he does something super embarrassing in front of you

☆ like you see him scream at a cockroach or smth

☆ and he is SO tempted to use memory alteration on you so you could just forget that ever happened

☆ but he just can't bring himself to do it

☆ OR when your birthday was before his so he got you a present but didn't do that much else, but when it was time for his birthday and you went all out, he so wanted to either go back in time and do better or just alter your memory so you think he went all out too

☆ oh and passive aggression doesn't work on him ofc

☆ if you are ever mad or upset at him for whatever reason, you can't be like 'hmph i'm not gonna tell you what you did wrong, you just have to know :<' bc he can.. y'know.. read your mind

☆ and he also knows exactly what to do to make you feel better and forgive him, every single time

☆ plus you can never stay mad at him for long anyway bc he's just too cute!!

☆ too shy to admit that he wants to spend more time with you so he will use his powers as some sort of excuse

as you're about to leave saiki's room, he lies, 'wait. don't go. i have had a precognition that something terrible is going to happen to you if you do.' 'really?' you raise an eyebrow. 'and what might that be?' he wasn't really ready for any follow up questions so he stutters and thinks of the scariest scenario he can 'toritsuka.' ... 'toritsuka is going to do what? jump me?' 'no. just toritsuka.'

☆ for your birthday or anniversary he does something you call the 'saiki special' where he duplicates himself to give you a full body massage

☆ it's what dreams are made of !!!

☆ but yeah it's a lot of effort so he saves it for special occasions

☆ he would so love to watch trashy reality tv shows with you

☆ but he so uses it against you

☆ like if you are ever studying and are like 'why am i working so hard when you are psychic and can literally set us up for the easy life 😫'

☆ he'll be like.. you know who else never worked hard a day in they're life.. the kardashians!! do you really want to end up like that??

☆ and when you say yes this is the face he makes 😐

☆ dw though bc as i said before he will be in your head during exams so he can help you a little

☆ his love language is actually spoonfeeding you food and desserts

☆ and yes he actually uses his hands opposed to his mind to control the spoon, just to show you that being a psychic doesn't mean he gets to cut corners!

[apoemaday]

A Myth of Devotion

by Louise Glück

When Hades decided he loved this girl he built for her a duplicate of earth, everything the same, down to the meadow, but with a bed added.

Everything the same, including sunlight, because it would be hard on a young girl to go so quickly from bright light to utter darkness

Gradually, he thought, he’d introduce the night, first as the shadows of fluttering leaves. Then moon, then stars. Then no moon, no stars. Let Persephone get used to it slowly. In the end, he thought, she’d find it comforting.

A replica of earth except there was love here. Doesn’t everyone want love?

He waited many years, building a world, watching Persephone in the meadow. Persephone, a smeller, a taster. If you have one appetite, he thought, you have them all.

Doesn’t everyone want to feel in the night the beloved body, compass, polestar, to hear the quiet breathing that says I am alive, that means also you are alive, because you hear me, you are here with me. And when one turns, the other turns—

That’s what he felt, the lord of darkness, looking at the world he had constructed for Persephone. It never crossed his mind that there’d be no more smelling here, certainly no more eating.

Guilt? Terror? The fear of love? These things he couldn’t imagine; no lover ever imagines them.

He dreams, he wonders what to call this place. First he thinks: The New Hell. Then: The Garden. In the end, he decides to name it Persephone’s Girlhood.

A soft light rising above the level meadow, behind the bed. He takes her in his arms. He wants to say I love you, nothing can hurt you

but he thinks this is a lie, so he says in the end you’re dead, nothing can hurt you which seems to him a more promising beginning, more true.

[lavenderhateswritting]

Mohawk!Mark x Reader

I was inspired by an amazing fanfiction on here that literally made my brain light up and I had to write my own version.

The entire world was on fire. The entire world was on fire and people who looked like your boyfriend were the ones destroying it. Jesus Christ Mark couldn't catch a fucking break.

There was nothing you could do. You weren't a hero you were just a normal person. You were just going to have to hunker down and wait for the carnage to end.

You were laying in your bed watching the news on your phone when you heard the front door creak open. That wouldn't make any sense though. Mark was out there fighting his duplicates and everyone else you knew were trying their hardest to stay out of the way of the destruction.

"Babe, please come here I need you." It was Mark. His voice was strained and he drew out the words like he was whining. This wasn't right. Mark wasn't supposed to be home yet.

You grabbed your phone and began to pull yourself off the bed.

"Mark love are you okay?" You screamed to him. If he was coming to you something had to be very wrong. Something in your somach was telling you this was all very wrong.

"I just need you. I need you so bad. Please." His voice was airy, but less strained this time like he had just gotten a boost of energy out of nowhere.

You reached your hand toward the doorknob of your bedroom and froze. Your phone buzzed. Mark had just texted you. You clicked on the message your breath speeding up as you did.

Mark: You need to get out of the house right now.

Your heart rate began to pick up. You could feel it hammering in your ear. You were fucked.

"Babe. Please open the door I need you right now please." The fake Mark began again he was closer to the door now maybe standing directly in front of it.

Mark: The duplicates they went to my house

Mark: They might come to your apartment

Mark: You need to leave NOW

You couldn't pretend like you weren't there he had already heard your voice. You needed to buy yourself time. If you could make it to the bathroom attached to your room you could maybe make it out of the window. You couldn't out run him. Time all you needed was time.

"Mark hun I'm gonna grab a towel for your injuries and then I'll be right there for you okay." You were walking toward the bathroom now. You're rushing as much as you can. He still thinks you're worried about him you running shouldn't throw him off to much.

"Who just texted you." His voice was normal now. Not normal like your Marks. It was scratchier and serious in a way that made a chill run down your spine.

"Just my mom. She wanted to check on me, you know with everythig going on right now." You were walkng into the bathroom now. You closed the bathroom door behind you and then locked the door.

Your hands were sweating as you grabbed on to the edge of the window sill. You were pushing the window up as far as you could while your arms were shaking.

You heard the door to your bedroom begin to creak open. He was getting closer. You needed to go now. You had finally opened the window as far enough for you to climb out. You hoisted yourself onto the window sill as you began to climb out head first out of the window.

All of a sudden you heard the sound of your bathroom door being ripped off the hinges. You were half way out the window and you tried for one last push to get out when a hand grabbed your leg.

"As much as I appreciate the view you're gonna have to get your ass back in here. Baaaabe." His grip tightened on your leg as you felt yourself be pulled back into the window.

As soon as you saw him you understood. There was no way he could have convinced you he was your Mark if you had seen his face. He had shaved his head into a mohawk and had grown a soul patch as well. His eyes had dark spots under them that your mark didn't have either.

You were laying flat on your back while he held one of your legs off the ground. He was staring down at you with a crazed look in your eye that your Mark would never have had.

"I could hear you you know. Every heartbeat, breath, and swallow. You were fucked before this had even started." He was smiling at you as he spoke he finally let go of your leg. You kicked at him as he finally let go of you and felt yourself be met with a brick wall. You knew Mark was strong, but never once in your life had you thought that you would have to be on this side of that strength.

"Are you gonna kill me." You finally asked as your voice shook. You needed to find a way around him, but he was completely blocking you into the corner of your bathroom.

"Now why would I do that gorgeous." He was floating a foot off the ground leaning down to mock you. "I mean look at you why would I leave such a fine specimen in this shit heap of a dimension."

You finally began to pull yourself up to fully standing. "I'm not going anywhere with you. You absolute psycho." Oh god this was gonna break Marks heart if he had to find your dead body. What was he going to tell your family?

His smile got even bigger if that was even possible. "oh well look at you a brave final front against the big scary monster huh." He suddenly grabbed you by the waist and pulled you flush against his body.

He pulled you in closer and his lips were on yours. He was rough like he was trying to fight you. He bit your bottom lip and you gasped in pain. He used your suprise and forced his tongue into your mouth.

If it was possible he pulled you closer like he was trying to swallow you into himself. He was like a man starved. You tried to push him off, but he was like a wall he didn't give. He reached one of his hands down to your waist and another up behind your head and pulled you even closer to him.

The edges around your eyes were starting to blur. You needed to breathe, but he didn't and he wouldn't let up it was like he couldn't breathe without you.

Finally he pulled his tongue out of your mouth a line of spit connecting his mouth to yours.

"God do you feel that can you feel how much I missed you babe more than anyone else." You could feel how much he missed you or whatever version of you he remembered. His hard on was pushing against your crotch solid and warm.

"I'm not your Y/N. I don't know you please just let me go." You were out of breath and could still feel your brain trying to come back online.

"That's okay. You'll get to know me I'm like your Mark, but so much better." He pulled the hand that was on your head forward and began holding your face.

Through the window some weird robot floated in.

"Really Angstrom you couldn't have picked a better time." He was angry now gritting his teeth before he finally let you go.

"I'll be back for you don't you worry." And then you were all alone in your bathroom with a broken door shaking all over. You finally collapsed on your knees. God you hope Mark killed all of those fuckers.

[torusonicpilled]

can we know more about the future au👀👀❓️

Alright I've been waiting for this, get ready for a really long lore dump... (click on keep reading so I don't clutter up the tags)

Future AU takes place 200 years after when-ever the main events of the game are. This would make Shadow 215 years old and Sonic 216 years old. Sonic: Sonic was created by a cult of former ARK scientists who wanted to create a version of Shadow specifically to be a weapon and without the Black Arms DNA. They used the DNA of a god and were successful (obviously.) However, Sonic at one point lost control of his power and destroyed everything, this event made him lose his memory. The first thing he saw when he woke up was the nature around him, creating his free-spirited nature (contrast to how Shadow woke up seeing Maria for the first time.) All this lore is here to explain why Sonic is immortal. However because Sonic is immortal and the public is unaware of this, and basically the gods have their own secret cult that gave Sonic an ultimatum. Basically he could A) Die at around 40 but keep his freedom, however the earth he loves may one day be destroyed due to the lack of him protecting it. B) He lives long enough (around 110) for people to realize he is immortal like Shadow, and not wanting to waste their best protector against the planet, seals him away, freezing him and only take him out when they need him to save them, or C) fake his death and continuing living, but lose his humanity, never being able to be “Sonic the Hedgehog” again. Sonic also never made this choice, as Shadow was the one who decided. Shadow feels guilt over this even if Sonic has gotten over it at this point. 

Sonic goes through a major depression in the years 110-150, as he basically loses his identity and is struggling with that. Sonic eventually finds some old outfit Shadow has in the closet, and uses it to become a masked figure called “S.” He now saves people under S, his speed being from “technology” and a voice modulator hiding his voice. Sonic is insanely powerful in the future, so people start equating him to a “legendary hero” who only appears when a threat too strong shows up. (like how Silver acted when talking about Whisper in IDW #8.) 

Sonic still has a lot of his immature traits personality wise, however he is a lot smarter when it comes to combat, having experience in situations, as well as being extremely overpowered. 

Shadow: Due to Shadow being the ultimate lifeform, he’s allowed to still be in public and shows his face. Shadow leaves G.U.N after Rouge retires, as Team Dark disbands. Once Rouge dies, Shadow spends a lot of time with Sonic, as Sonic is going through it being dead in all but name. 

Around 130-140, Shadow created “Maria’s Solutions,” his own private organization for helping people. Shadow is someone people go to when people can’t go to police or other organizations for help. He accepts help from almost any client, however he is often avoided by the worst as his power is terrifying. Shadow is now a detective, negotiator, and bounty hunter all in one, as he is more knowledgeable and collected now. 

After Eggman's death, Shadow adopted Sage at his request, not having it in him to bring her offline. Sage has a duplicate robot body but she prefers to spend time with him on Shadow's phone. She helps him out in missions, with hacking and tech related problems. 

Shadow has other employees for Maria’s Solutions, however I’m still working on them. Main ideas include an innocent girl similar to Maria he’s taken a soft spot to, a robot like Omega who works as a maid around their house, etc. 

Silver: Silver will occasionally come back to check in on Shadow. Due to the deal they made, Silver can’t know Sonic is alive. However, due to a mishap, Silver finds out and becomes friends with S. Sonic likes spending more time with Silver so he hides this fact from Shadow, sometimes going on missions with Silver. 

Other info

Sonic and Shadow aren’t important to this world. Lots of organizations and people fight in this world, thus leaving Sonic to deal with world ending threats and Shadow his clients. Organizations include

Technology conglomerates

A church that worships Gaia

The restoration

Militaries

Sonic and Shadow are married with rings pierced in their ears, however they do not like to define relationships. 

Anyone who Shadow trusts enough will meet Sonic by accident, but calls him “S” either way. 

Knuckles can be spoken too by connecting with the master emerald, which is underneath Sonic and Shadow’s house in an underground facility. 

Tails reincarnates when he dies with an extra tail, however he gets his memories from his last 100 years only if he meets Sonic. They don’t meet until 130ish, where Sonic agrees to wait until Tails is 20 every time before he hunts for him. (this part I’m still working on.)

Sonic is a jack of all trades who can use any weapon to fight as he likes to switch it up. Shadow uses a gun and sword combo along with his chaos abilities. 

AU is more comedic despite the somber tone, as Sonic and Shadow are still Sonic and Shadow at the end of the day.

Well that was a lot but if you want more info send me another ask with more questions for me to answer

[hirayalore]

this is absolutely nerve-wracking. you don’t even know why you agreed to be on this side of the team in the first place, knowing that you would be better in the field (being an aspiring auror and a good one at that), and is quite perhaps the human personification of the word ‘impatience’ when it came to situations like these.

though yet again, it was GEORGE WEASLEY who made you promise that you weren’t going to volunteer to be a potter duplicate for the said chosen one’s safe travel to the burrow—the place you’re already in at the moment as he reckoned that it was enough that he had to worry about his father and brothers being with him for the task; he didn’t want to be preoccupied thinking about whether his girlfriend was managing herself well too.

“i’ll be careful,” george promised you before the both of you parted earlier, a kiss planted on your forehead, “i’ll meet you at the burrow, safe and sound, alright?”

you only nodded, not knowing what to do or say. you wanted to stop him from leaving, to convince him that it was too dangerous. however, you also knew that it was selfish of you to do so, considering that what he was going to do was not only for the betterment of harry potter himself, but possibly the whole wizarding world.

a loud sound of crashing coming from the front yard pushes you out of your trance and you stand up from your seat to run outside, quickly followed by ginny who has been quiet and pacing around the house in anxiety before she heard the crash too.

it’s hagrid and harry—the real harry you presume as ginny launches towards him so that they could embrace. you let out a breath, relieved that he’s here unharmed, but admittedly not relieved enough as there is  still no sign of george.

though as if on cue, two men suddenly appear on the right side of the lawn via apparition and you recognize them to be remus and george immediately, with the latter being supported by the former.

it dawns on you that george is injured, your eyes focusing on the side of his head that is bleeding.

“i’m good, i’m all good,” are the first words he utters to you once you’re close, grabbing his other arm so you and remus can carry him to the burrow together.

you can’t bring yourself to reply. your heart is thumping so hard inside your chest that you feel like you’re going to shut down any second now. the only thing that’s keeping you from going into full panic mode is how he at least has the strength to stay conscious and talk to you still as he’s being led to the sofa, a fact that convinces your brain that he’s nowhere near danger now.

once he’s laid there, remus approaches harry to check on him while you take the liberty to rush to get some medical supplies that could help george’s condition.

molly then tends to him, brushing his hair and whispering thanks that he didn’t arrive in a worse condition, before she goes to you and says that you can be in charge of george as she waits for her other family members’ arrival.

“sweetheart,” george murmurs, staring at you as you kneel beside him and take out a bunch of bandages and some healing potion to help with his blown up ear, “i’m fine, i promise.”

still, no sentence escapes from your lips. you remain busy, just rummaging through the medical kit even though you’ve already got what you needed. annoyance is bubbling inside of you because of what he just said, but you don’t show it, aware that it might be ridiculous to do so as it isn’t like george wished to get himself hurt. 

“sweetie,” he repeats, voice hoarse and tone more pleading, “look at me, will you?”

you don’t oblige. you just zip the bag close and place it on the floor.

“____.” he calls your name, stern and demanding now with a hand holding your wrist to stop you from moving too much.

you finally look at him, his eyes turning soft at the way yours started to water.

you’re a strong girl, he knows that, and you don’t like showing vulnerability to anyone or in any circumstances unless it greatly affected you—and judging by how you’re forcing yourself not to cry or show too much emotion because of what happened to him, it’s clear that you’re so affected by this and that he made you worry so much to the point of wanting to sob.

“i’m okay,” he says again, bringing your wrist over his chest, just so your palm can rest on where you can feel his heart the most, “it’s still beating for you, darling. can’t you feel it?”

you inhale sharply, a lame attempt to stop yourself from fully crying, and nod. “i feel it.”

“it’s just my ear that was messed up. nothing to be alarmed about.”

“don’t be ridiculous. this is still worth being alarmed about.”

“but it’s just an ear.”

“it’s still an ear, george.”

“yeah—but i’ve got another one.”

you close your eyes momentarily.

there really is no point in arguing with this man.

“whatever,” you exhale, shaking off the annoyance away once more, “let’s see what i can do for your—”

you’re supposed to pull your hand away from his chest to start examining him thoroughly but he stops you, keeping your palm in place.

“what?” you ask.

he looks extremely serious as he says his next sentence. “give me a kiss.”

“a kiss?” you repeat.

“a kiss, yes.”

you scoff. “george, you’re still bleeding and—”

“just one, please,” he cuts you off once more, the one impatient now. “look, i… i thought i almost didn’t make it, okay? then i kept thinking what if it really was the end of it all, and then i remembered i only kissed you on the forehead before i left, and that would’ve been the last kiss you had from me.”

he truly has a peculiar mind. out of all the possible things to think of when one is perhaps on the brink of death, all he thinks about is that he never gave you a proper kiss on the lips.

“you’re a bloody idiot, darling,” you say, leaning in to give him a peck on the lips like requested, a gesture that he receives with a contented sigh, “and quite literally too, that is.”

you give him another kiss, this one fuller and with george placing a hand on your back to press you further towards him.

it’s only when the both of you hear fred cough that you pull away, glancing behind you to see his twin brother looking at him with worry.

“sorry to steal him away from you, ____,” fred says as you stand up, getting the hint and giving him permission to go to your previous spot. “just have to check on this clumsy git and then he’s all yours again.”

you chuckle, hugging fred quickly too in gratefulness because he arrived fine as well, before going to the kitchen and preparing something for the whole lot to eat with molly.

as you wait for the water to boil for some tea, you lean on the counter and gaze towards george who’s still conversing with fred.

the moment your eyes meet for a brief second, he has the nerve to wink.

you smile.

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ⊹ reposted from my other account !

[jinjeriffic]

Dan Phantom vs. the Justice League

Most DCxDP fanworks gloss over how Dark Danny/Phantom kills the JL, or argue that TUE wouldn't play out the same way in the DC universe, since there are tons of superheroes and some would have a way of beating Dan. So let us dig into this with a shovel!

I would like to point out that we have seen plenty of apocalyptic/dark futures in DC. Even without Dan, that superhero multiverse is constantly teetering on the knife's edge of catastrophe! It feels like every couple of months someone has to stop the end of the world. Dan is just one more possible future to avert.

Dan is not a mindless monster, he is capable of planning, subterfuge and working with/coercing others to work with him (i.e. Fright Knight). He has both Danny and Vlad's memories, so in a crossover setting there is no way he wouldn't know about the public superheroes and villains at least.

Speaking of, DC is obviously crawling with supervillains and world destroying entities. Nobody said Dan had to conquer the world alone! I can totally see him working with and manipulating other villains to achieve his goals, only to stab them in the back later (ho-ho).

Dan's powers of invisibility, intangibility, duplication, overshadowing etc. make him an ideal candidate for infiltration, espionage and sabotage. Unless a person or location is specifically shielded against ghosts with tech or magic, he can get in and out without anybody noticing. Sure, someone like Batman probably had his home proofed against supernatural attacks, but surely not most of them! I envision him taking down Earth's heroes by extensively spying on them first.

Consider: Dan causes a major disaster that requires superhero intervention (runaway train, high-rise fire, sinking oil tanker etc.) and waits for someone to show up. When they do, Dan uses his duplicates to follow the hero(es) home/to work etc. Learn their identity, their weaknesses, their loved ones etc.

Dan could strategically leak hero identities to villains with a grudge who have no problem going after their civilian lives. This could also act as a smoke screen so the heroes don't immediately realize someone is targeting all of them.

Overshadow a loved one and use them to kill the hero - "Oh, Hero X got in an argument with their SO and their SO shot them in a fit of passion? Their SO claims having blacked out just before they picked up the gun? Trauma will do that."

Use intangibility to plant bombs, nerve gas, radioactive materials, etc. in the homes of various heroes and set them off in a coordinated strike.

Probably the biggest threat to Dan would be magic based heroes or supernatural entities (Captain Marvel, Doctor Fate, the JLD, etc.). They would also be the most likely to have countermeasures in place against ghosts, or a way to detect him. But they're also mostly suited for fighting the supernatural. I admittedly don't know enough about a lot of these characters - would say, Zatanna think to have a shield in place against sudden sniper attacks? Dan could steal some money and hire Deathstroke/Deadshot etc to blow their head off when they're out in the open.

Have I mentioned what a nightmare Dan would be in terms of security? I can totally see him say, breaking into the CDC and unleashing smallpox, ebola and any number of virulent diseases on the world. Cause some nuclear meltdowns. Knock down a dam. Steal some highly radioactive isotopes! Would the magic heroes be protected against something that can give you a lethal dose of radiation within minutes?

What I'm saying is, a clever and ruthless villain like Dan could unleash enough chaos with his OP powerset to overwhelm the heroes and then pick a lot of them off. He's pretty much the definition of someone who just wants to see the world burn!

[ronearoundblindly]

Scrappy

platonic Bucky Barnes x Alpine!Reader Steve Rogers x shapeshifter!Reader

Summary: You transform into a human, revealing to Steve and Bucky that you are not just Alpine, the beloved cat.

part of Companion Animal (see previous or series)

Warnings for mentions of nudity and past trauma (nothing specific), arguing, language (because everyone is in shock), and canon-level violence (toward a bad guy). Angst with a happy-ish ending, since that will be elaborated on later. Zero editing. None of it is strictly not-safe-for-minors, but remember, your media consumption is your responsibility, yours alone, and no one else's. WC 2.1k

You were never supposed to participate, yet here you are chasing a man you know only as “Duplicate” through the woods. Bucky and Steve took off in other directions after what they thought were sole (two) version of the guy, but you have an advantage they do not: you can smell the real Duplicate in a cluster of trees.

You also have a disadvantage: in cat form, you cannot yell loud enough for Bucky and Steve to hear your discovery, and the attempts at crying have spooked the man bolting toward the road. If he makes it there, you suspect he’ll get away, possibly even steal one of your boys’ bikes to do so.

The spike of adrenaline drives you further, faster, harder. You can feel the energy is temporary. You have to stop Duplicate.

Luckily, he’s not particularly fast zigzagging through the trees, so you swipe at his ankles and legs, landing several swats and a bite, but then the cover of forest opens up to a ditch below the north lane of freeway.

One final push, and you have to make it count.

You jump, breathe straining in your lungs, chest tight from fear of failure, fury steadying your claws as they dig into his shoulders, and you pull to drag him down with all your strength.

He crumples with a wail, right on top of you. Between you’re flailing and his, no one manages to get up or out of the lock. It’s a mess of arms and legs, a din of angry grunts and curses, until Steve makes it back to wrench Duplicate off of you and fling him into a waiting left hook of Bucky’s powerful vibranium fist.

Only a few blows later, he’s unconscious, and you’ve scrambled to your feet.

“Oh, OH, shit, sorry,” Steve began to look in your direction, but swiftly covers his eyes and turns away. “I’m sorry, miss. We--we’re here to—did he hurt you?”

Bucky stares openly…at eye-level.

You transitioned from a 16-in long feline with white fur to a woman with no fur.

You’re naked.

“Wha—WHAT THE HELL!”

Steve makes a tutting noise as if Bucky’s forgotten his manners, seems to attempt an apologetic smile your way, and immediately corrects his gaze to the ground again.

With wide eyes, Bucky slowly, carefully, and deliberately says your name out loud. He even repeats it before a dumbfounded “you’re Alpine?”

Steve’s whole body snaps ramrod straight. “What?”

The pressure in your chest swells too big for your ribcage. It hurts. You panic.

They grow taller and taller in your vision, Bucky pleading for you to wait, but when he steps closer, your shaking becomes four legs bolting back to the tree line.

“You know that woman? Did you KNOW ABOUT—“

The screaming continues until you tuck yourself beneath a high root not too far into the woods. You can’t see them, only hear.

“I did not—shut up,” Bucky says to Steve. “I didn’t know, but I recognize her.”

“Buck, you gotta be shitting me. Your cat?!”

“Stop yelling, dude. You’re scaring her.”

“I’m scaring HER?”

The pang bubbles over, so what would be a sob comes bursting out as a high-pitched, pathetic cry, as weak as you felt in human form.

“Yes,” Bucky grits, more vicious than anything you’ve ever heard him say. “You are.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve hisses. “Twenty seconds ago, I didn’t think I’d spent months calling a grown woman ‘babygirl.’ That’s embarrassing…and so insulting.”

“I leave the bathroom door open. How did you think I feel?!”

There’s shuffling as Steve whispers his reply of “that’s just common courtesy, jerk. Why would—“

“I DIDN’T KNOW. Now, just—can you just stay here and make sure this asshole doesn’t—“

“She could be anywhere by—“

“Just do it, Steve,” Bucky grumbles. “We can’t risk him waking up before Containment gets here, and I’m going to go find Alpine.”

“Apparently, that’s not her name,” Steve snips. Footstep crunch through leaves and grass for a moment. “Hey, why have you seen her face?”

“I think—“ Bucky specifies he’s guessing “—her father came by after she ran away. Canvased the whole neighborhood passing out her picture. Actually, he thought she was kidnapped? Maybe?”

“You didn’t kidnap a woman, did you?!”

“No! Of course not. He was convinced she’d never run—ya know what? This is wasting time. I’m—“

You don’t want to be discovered within seconds of Bucky breaching the trees, so you run, hearing, “damn it,” before the footsteps quicken in pursuit.

You race along the tree line until banking a sharp turn to throw him off. For a minute or two, it seems to work. The energy has drained from your body, and you lie down to recover. Your blood rushes past your sensitive ears. That’s all you can hear till…

“Pretty girl, I won’t harm you. I would never harm you.” Stealthy as a ghost, Bucky creeps past the nearest log of deadwood. “I just need to know you’re okay.”

He scans his surroundings before his gaze lands directly on you.

You offer a defiant meow.

“Tired, huh?” He crouches down beside you, his flesh palm landing on your heaving chest. “Your heartbeat is so fast. That’s it. Take some nice, deep breaths. There. That’s better.”

Bucky takes a seat, saying nothing more, just monitoring you, making sure you’re comfortable and safe. He doesn’t need to say anything because it’s clear he remembers your face—your real face—and your story—the version your father tells, at least. Bucky doesn’t give you any excuses. There are no platitudes of ‘everything will be fine’ or ‘all is forgiven.’ After a long time, he simply strokes down your back how he knows you like it.

“Hey, Alpine?”

You side eye him and merp softly.

“Would you like to go home?”

With one last huff and a glance forward, you get up off the ground, grateful his face is not visible from this far below and your own face isn’t readable from that far above. Soon, you notice he’s falling back several paces and turn to tilt your head questioningly.

Bucky points. “Bike’s that way, sweetheart. Is it okay if…I mean, can I just carry you?”

You follow his finger into darkness and dense wood that looks the exact same as everywhere else, realizing you’re lost. You’d be lost without Bucky now in more ways than one.

You stride to his legs and wait to be hoisted through the air, limp and settled automatically, the familiar sweet spot in arms lulling you to rest.

“Good job today,” he whispers. “Couldn’t have done it without ya.”

Out of habit more than choice, you begin to purr, and Bucky scratches between your ears.

“You’d let me know, right? If you didn’t want something? If you hated this?”

You keep purring, eyes shut because it’s too hard to look at him, to see that he knows. You still haven’t made any sort of answer by the time his boots hit pavement.

He stops.

“Alpine, I’m sorry, but you need to use your words. Are you okay?”

A crackling, sad meow escapes you.

“You wanna go back home?”

This time, your chirp is a bit stronger, and you finally open your eyes.

There’s light everywhere, red, white, and blue, flashing endlessly like waves in moonlight.

Bucky swings his leg over his motorcycle and puts you down on the seat, unzipping his jacket as he always does to let you crawl in.

“Wait,” someone calls from all the commotion, and here comes Steve. “You…you found her?”

You scurry to hide, squeezing through the tight leather and Bucky’s rigid side, your feet poking out until you make space. If you thought it was difficult to face Bucky, you weren’t prepared for the sickly surge of Steve knowing what you really are.

“She’s fine,” Buck says simply. “We’re going home.”

“I—I gotta debrief. I can’t leave.” Steve sounds so…broken.

You can’t help but wiggle to get a peek and end up popping up from Bucky’s collar, your ears flattened, looking enough like an alien with fangs that Steve actually smiles.

“Woman, you are not riding like that,” Bucky grumbles.

“Hi” is all Steve manages, but it’s as soft as ever. “I’ll…can I come by later?” His eyes are locked with yours. “I promise I won’t tell anyone. We won’t—“ you feel Bucky’s nod more than see it in unison with Steve’s “—not until you’re ready.”

“Cap! Captain, we’re heading out!”

Steve’s smile falls, and though he’s poised to reply, again he can’t find the words. He only waves and jogs off with his head down.

You slither around beneath the jacket until in your normal spot for riding.

“What’re you, a snake now?” Bucky snorts, playfully adding, “weirdo,” and revving the engine.

This journey home is different. When you first rode the bike with him, Bucky made sure to put a hand under you at every stop, a security check of sorts, and then once you were comfortable, he seemed so proud to have your head poking out that he just enjoyed watching kids and passersby get a kick from it. He doesn’t go full speed this time. The streets are more empty than usual. Bucky doesn’t make to touch you as he stops.

Instead, he motions to this store and that.

“You like donuts? That place is pretty good.”

“Don’t go there unless you want soggy pizza. Way too much sauce. Do not let Steve tell ya different. It’s awful. Man has no standards.”

“Great shepherd’s pie at that pub. We’ll go someday. Goes well with a pint if you enjoy that sorta thing.” He shrugs. “I can’t anymore. Least, not for anythin’ but the taste…”

A clothing boutique shuts off their display lights just as you two zip past.

“Shit, honey, we gotta get you some duds. Tomorrow, maybe.”

You hop down and walk beside him on the way into the apartment, making a b-line for the couch once inside. Pointedly, Bucky sighs, heading to the bathroom, shutting the door very carefully, and cursing several times…quietly.

You’d laugh if you could.

He returns after a trip to the bedroom, a stack of clothes placed in front of you neatly, and he asks if he should give you privacy.

You don’t move from your tightly curled ball.

“Can you control it?”

You just blink.

“Do you want me to stay out here?”

He takes the lift of your head as a ‘yes.’

Bucky sits in his usual corner, rubbing his hands on his thighs awkwardly until he spots the remote on the coffee table.

He shoots you a glance and raises an eyebrow. “Next episode, m’lady?”

When you get up, stretch, and saunter over to him, he swipes the remote and gets comfortable, tipping the blanket off the back of the couch to drape over you.

You watch but hardly pay attention, your head in his lap as you fall asleep.

Your dreams rehash the fight with Duplicate. In one or two reenactments, you purposefully change to human. You’re the one punching him out. You’re the one saving the day. In one or two, Steve looks at you like a goddess, full of awe and admiration. In more than two, he screams in horror, and the last of those jolts you awake.

Bucky may not sleep deeply often, but when he does, his snoring is loud. It’s the first thing you notice, even before realizing it’s your palm pushing up against him to orient yourself.

“Hey, hey, don’t worry.” Steve whispers from at your feet—holding your human feet steady in his own lap. “You’re okay. You’re home.”

The blanket which swallowed your cat form barely covers the length of you now, and you tuck it tightly against your chest, heart hammering to keep you aware. You can feel the shrinking urge, the one that pulls you into a creature of protection, a shielded beast of caution, and it must show on your face. Perhaps your eyes change color or your ears begin to point. You don’t know, but Steve now does.

He slides farther under your legs, reaching a finger beneath your chin. His skin is warm when truly touching yours. You imagined it would be, but you never knew until this moment.

“Stay with me,” he pleads. “It’s alright.”

But what you’ve known from day one—the truth in Steve Rogers’ blue gaze—is that he can’t lie. If he says it’s alright, then it is, and if he orders you to stay…

…then you will.

[Next Part: Cozy]

[Main Masterlist; Steve Rogers Series List; Bucky Barnes Masterlist]

A/N: I cried writing this. I was also way too excited to post it, so tahdah, you get more two days later!

[jamminvroomvroom]

ruined.

LN x fem!reader - 4k celebration

based on this request!

in which, why wouldn’t they fall in love?

back with another celebration request! thank u anon, love this one sm! so tempted to make something longer form outta this one omg... lemme know what you think of this, hugs hugs hugs

i had to reupload this! sorry if you already interacted :(

songs to set the mood: let’s fall in love for the night by finneas, you are in love by taylor swift, sofia by clairo, till forever falls apart by ashe and finneas

warnings: 18+!! minors go away dni!! smut, fluff, swearing, alcohol consumption, voyeurism? kinda? friends to lovers, mutual pining

3.4k words

“i bring gifts!” you call out, throwing the keys on the side. you shuffle your feet against the doormat, awkwardly balancing the bottle of wine you hold in one hand and the box of pizza in the other. it doesn’t help that you feel like the michelin man, bundled up in a jacket and a scarf. you kick off your boots, leaving them haphazardly in the hallway.

“in the kitchen.” lando shouts back, and you trudge towards the sound of his voice, sliding around in your fluffy socks.

“i hate all of those stupid little cars that everyone in monaco seems to drive.” you tut, sliding the pizza box across the counter, the bottle of wine clinking against the granite.

“even my jolly?” lando pouts. he’s waiting with two wine glasses, even though you’ll drink most of the merlot while he scrunches his nose up in distaste, but this is routine, standard procedure.

“i do miss the jolly, to be fair.” you give him that much, grinning playfully.

five minutes later, your coat and scarf are long forgotten, slung over one of the high chairs that line his breakfast bar. you’re in the living room, sprawled on one end of the couch, him on the other. your feet rest in his lap and the pizza box rests across your knees. some series you’ve been trying to watch for weeks is playing on netflix, but you aren’t really paying much attention.

“so, you’re telling me,” you pause to take another bite of pizza, swallowing between giggles, “you’re telling me that you heard oscar through the wall?” you choke.

“yeah, i’m telling you! little oscar is definitely not… little, from what i heard.” he cackles. “and then afterwards, bless them, they were all dishevelled and he would not make eye contact with me.” lando explains, both of you a mess of giggles.

“oscar piastri, what a minx.” you shake your head in disbelief.

“as if that’s what i needed, by the way! the dry spell was not helped by whatever him and lily were getting at.”

“dry spell? you? don’t lie to me, norris.” you kick him gently.

“what? i’m serious! start of the season has been so busy, haven’t had time to… get busy.” he wiggles his eyebrows and you roll your eyes.

“welcome to my world, you prick.” you tease, kicking him again. you catch his ribs as you do, knowing full well you’ve hit the prime tickle spot.

“what’s your excuse?”

“excuse you, i’m a busy gal! we can’t all be famous jet-setting f1 drivers.” you feign offence, and he grins toothily.

“i meant,” he starts, speaking slowly as if you’re stupid, and for a third time, you kick him, a tad harder than the last two times. “you’re a catch, how are you not getting laid?”

you pray he can’t see the way you’ve gone pink.

truthfully, he’s the damn reason. how can any man live up to the one and only lando norris? how can anyone compare to your best friend? world famous, beautiful, down right hilarious, beautiful!

lando’s the guy that picks up the pieces every time some loser breaks your heart. he’s the guy who’s key you keep on your overflowing keychain, the guy who buys duplicates of the skincare products you use, so you can keep them at his place - you still laugh every time you remember the first time he tried to pronounce salicylic acid. he’s basically your guy, but after 10 years of friendship, you’re not willing to tell him that.

“just… not.” you shrug, tucking your hair behind your ear. he hums in response, sounds like he doesn’t believe you, but he drops it.

you sink three glasses of red, the pizza box is on the floor, and your eyes are drooping, heavy.

“bedtime for you, methinks.” lando whispers, gently shifting your feet from his lap. you frown, missing his touch already. you make grabby hands at him, too comfy to move on your own. “want me to carry you?” you nod lazily, a smile stretching across your face.

he slides one hand under your legs, the other under your back, and hoists you up. he holds you close to his chest, your head resting against his heart, so close that you can hear the soft thrum that keeps him warm.

“thank you.” you murmur as he places you softly on your- his guest bed.

“anytime, honey.” he smiles down at you. he thinks you’re so pretty like this, so sleepy and cosy. he fights the demons that tell him to crawl into the empty space beside you. “there’s some water here, sleep well, love.” he walks away, reaching the door when:

“love you.” you coo. he shivers. you always say it, and he always says it back, but lately, it pains him.

“yeah. love you too.”

lando pulls the door to quietly, leaning against the wood for a moment trying to compose himself.

-

it’s been an hour, and you’re sobered up, wide awake in the dark.

you try to fall asleep, really, you do, but your mind is moving a thousands miles an hour, and all you can think about is his dry spell. your dry spell.

how can you sleep when you know he’s on the other side of the wall, as needy as you are for a warm body. you also know that you’ve soaked through your underwear. you’re wildly uncomfortable, restless, desperate for a sweet release, whether that be of sleep, or something else.

you can’t ask him, it would be a step too far, despite how torturously close you already are. so instead, you drive yourself insane with the thought of him; the image of him, head thrown back, slick and sweaty, cock hard in his hand.

what’s the harm in helping yourself out?

you’re throbbing, hot all over. you lose the war with yourself and your hand trails shamelessly down your body. you’re so sensitive that you’re instantly stifling moans, hand slapped over your mouth. you can’t get the earlier image out of your head, and you pray he’s on the other side of the wall thinking about you. you’re desperate, bucking your hips into your hand, aching for a release. you wish your hands were lando’s, big and rough, toying with every quivering part of you.

you have an idea, a twisted one, the kind that almost sends you over the edge. what would happen if you let yourself be as loud as you wanted, if you tore your hand away and cried out like you wanted to? every shred of rationality leaves your needy body.

you’re whining, clear as day. your resist calling out his name as your high builds, tweaking your clit between your fingers. you’re so dangerously close, hovering right on the edge. that’s when you hear it.

on the other side of the wall, your vision of lando has become a reality. your faint whines through the wall have him rock hard, fucking his own hand. he wishes it could be yours, and with the way you’re crying out, he doesn’t think you’d oblige to sitting on his lap, wet and pretty, and letting him sink his cock nice and deep.

but he can’t cross that line. not with you. it doesn’t matter how badly he wants you, how he’d go to the ends of the earth for you. one night wasn’t worth ten years of friendship, washed down the drain.

his hand speeds up, his head thrown back, at the same time as you slip two fingers inside of yourself. you fingers curl, hitting deep when you hear a throaty groan sounding from the other side of the wall.

you’d think a millionaire would have thicker walls.

he hears the exact moment you cum, a noticeable change in your sounds. they’ve gone up an octave, breathless, and before he can even register, he’s spurting thick white ribbons that land hotly on his skin.

you clean yourselves up, rooms apart but the same exact things running through your minds.

i just got off to the sound of my best friend.

-

you nibble the crusts of your toast. the kitchen is quiet, painfully so, and the air is still.

lando has his back to you, making you another cup of coffee. he’s forgone a shirt and you try your absolute best to ignore the warm glow of his skin. he looks radiant. you know why; orgasms can do that.

“lando-“

“we don’t need to talk about it, honey.”

“um, i was just gonna tell you that you’re burning your toast.” you snicker.

“oh, fuck.” he slides along the floor to the toaster, burning his fingers on blackened bread.

when he turns to you, he’s tinged red, grinning bashfully.

“moving on.”

“i need to get home but dinner later? i won’t stay the night.” you wink. you crave the normalcy that once was, the light, teasing nature of your friendship.

“i’ll cook.” he’s still blushing.

“ooh, on second thought.” you suck air through your teeth, pulling a face.

“get outta here.” he sticks his tongue out at you.

-

dinner was… well, it was edible.

he made spaghetti and some kind of sauce, one that you couldn’t quite work out the contents of but it was good enough.

“thanks, lan.” you smile softly, helping him clear the few plates off the table.

“anytime, honey.” he replies.

you’re standing at the sink, placing the cutlery down when you feel him behind you. you spin around, instantly regretting it, because you’re caged in. he’s leaning up to reach into a cupboard, frozen. so, so close. his panicked breath fans your face and you can feel the heat of his body.

you lean in, because why wouldn’t you? and so does he, so, so close. your hand that rests on the edge of the sinks moves so that you can reach out and cup his disgustingly perfect face but then-

a knife that had been hovering between the counter and plunging into the soapy hot water gets nudged over the edge by your clumsy hand and clatters against into the bowl.

the irritating noise springs you both back to reality and he jumps away like an orange cat. you grimace at the awkward tension, and he scratches the back of his neck. and then you’re laughing, hard, and of course he joins in because this situation is utterly ridiculous and your laugh is so beautifully contagious.

“oh my god, what is wrong with us?” you wheeze through the laughter, leaning back against the counter.

“last night was… insane. and now everything feels weird so, let’s just go back to basics.” lando smiles gracefully. you nod.

“that sounds absolutely perfect.”

“netflix?”

“and chill?” you chime in sarcastically. he glares at you. “couldn’t help it.” you hold your hands up in faux surrender.

-

you don’t know when you fall asleep, but you conk out, head lulling against his shoulder when you do.

he haunts your dreams, fingers thick between your thighs while you whimper his name. you must be out of it, so deep in your slumber that it takes lando a good few coos of your name to draw you out of it.

when your eyes shoot open, he’s looking down at you, a single curl falling over his forehead, taunting you.

“you dreaming of me?” he grins, something in his eyes that snaps you out of your grogginess.

“wh-why?” you splutter, sitting up. he’s still so close to you, coy smile pulling at the corners of his pink lips,

“kept making these little sounds, panting my name. got me thinking.”

“about what?” you whisper.

“how much i wanted to pin you to that bed last night and make you cry for me.”

“is this gonna ruin us?” your voice trembles with a unique blend of fear and anticipation.

“after last night? baby, we’re already ruined.”

his lips meet yours, tentative for just a brief second, and then it’s passionate, warm, lightning. his hands are firm on your body, pulling you impossibly closer until there’s no other option but to clamber into his lap. your hands find his hair, tugging wildly until his curls are a disheveled mess, pulled every which way.

“you’re so beautiful. want to tell you all the time but-“ lando mumbles into your mouth, urgent and hushed.

“but friends don’t do that.” you cut him off.

he pulls away from you, his nose bumping yours. his eyes are so blue today, sparkly.

“i think we’re more than that.” he mutters, lips brushing yours. “i think we have been for a while.”

“yeah.” you pant. “yeah we have. yeah.” your eyes dart between his and his kiss swollen lips.

and then you’re licking into his mouth, sighing at the relief. he paws at your waist, warm hands sliding under your jumper, gliding over your hips and up, up, up, until he’s dragging the material over you head and tossing it carelessly to the side. he kisses over your collarbone, licking and nipping while his hands smooth over your bra. he plucks at the fasten, and you relax as it snaps open, and the straps slide over your shoulders.

“is this okay, angel?” he whispers.

“perfect.”

his thumbs trace over the curve of your breasts, teasing your nipples gently, enough to send shockwaves through your body. you’re subconsciously grinding down on him, dragging your hips over his crotch, mouth dropping open when you hear the way his breath catches in his throat.

“driving me insane, honey.” he gulps, rolling your nipples between his fingers. “need to get inside of you.”

“hurry up then.” you sound desperate to your ears, delicious to his.

“do you know how hard it was to stay in my room last night? when i could hear you making those pretty little noises? you’re so bad.” he tuts, lifting you off of his lap and laying you back against the couch.

nimble fingers undo your jeans and you jolt as he slides them down your thighs, intimate touches on intimate skin. you lace your fingers through his hair, pulling him down to kiss you, and you moan into his open mouth when his fingers trail beneath your underwear.

lando dips his fingers between your folds, groaning as soon as he feels where your wetness has pooled in your panties. you’re intoxicating, he thinks, and he’s starving for you. he pries his hand from between your legs, lapping at his soaked digits. his eyes fall shut, eyelashes fluttering over his cheeks.

your taste sparks something within him, and he wriggles onto his belly, resting in between your thighs. he toys with your panties, just for a second, and he can’t help but latch on. he laves his tongue over the growing wet patch, eyes fluttering shut. he drags your underwear to the side, lapping over your cunt messily.

“taste so good.” he slurs into your pussy, depraved and ravenous. you buck your hips, the sensation of his words sending rumbles of vibrations to every one of your nerve endings.

you writhe against the plush couch, sinking deeper between the cushions as he fucks his tongue deeper and deeper, burrowing his face as far between your thighs as he can go.

“lando, ‘m so close.” you gasp, tugging hard at his curls, taking your nails across his scalp. he whimpers, whimpers, at the sensation and that’s enough to finish you off.

he keeps going, kitten licking you through your orgasm and you pant, nothing but white behind your squeezed shut eyes. you have you drag him away, overstimulated and twitching against the silvery grey fabric of the sofa.

“fuck.” you laugh, breathless.

“good?” he smirks.

“shut up and come here.” you make grabby hands at him, and he clambers over you, smiling wide, his lips coated shiny and red.

“you’re pretty.” he coos, licking his lips clean.

“so are you.” you whisper.

he collapses on top of you, urgently slotting his lips over yours. he slides his hands all over your frame, memorising every dip and curve, while your hands find the waistband of his joggers. you push the material down his hips gently tracing his hip bone; he shudders at the graze, kicking the fabric away and wrapping his hand around his cock.

you glance down, taking in the sight before you. he’s thick in his own hand, red and slick already, as he runs his hand over himself.

“you want me?” he manages to ask through gritted teeth.

“please.” you whine, reaching to replace his hand, but he bats you away.

“patience, baby. wanted you like this for so long, you can wait a few seconds.” he scolds, condescendingly.

you don’t get a chance to talk back, because he’s sliding inside of you, nice and slow. your eyes roll back at the delectable stretch, he’s bigger than you’ve had in a while, and you hum lowly. he kisses over your throat and you can hear his shaky breath fanning your ear. you’re fluttering around him, adjusting to him with small circles of your hips.

“do something.” you beg, hushed and breathless.

“you think you can take it?” lando taunts, but you can hear the way his voice waivers as your walls spasm around him.

“can you?” you whisper, giving as good as you get. something inside of him snaps and pride kicks in, because before you can even truly gloat, he’s barrelling into you.

you cling onto his shoulders greedily, digging your fingertips in to whatever part of him you can get hold of. he thrusts so deep, all the way in, before dragging fully out, leaving you aching for him to fill you up again. he’s going quick enough that you can’t really complain, but slow enough to tease, to drive you insane beneath him. it feels too good to hurry him up, he knows what he’s doing and you want to take it, feel him like this. you’re quivering, his cock hitting every single spot that makes you tick and you think you can die happy now that you’ve had him.

“i’m so close.” you warn, overstimulated from your first orgasm. he ups his pace, just enough to send you spiralling, and you can’t keep your eyes open as you let go, your legs kicking out.

it’s too much when you open your eyes and find him staring down at you, sleepy and sweaty. he’s gorgeous like this, pupils blown, bronze skin glistening in the low light. he feels the way you throb around him, still buried so deep.

“not done with you yet, angel. c’mere.” lando sits back, pulling your limp body along with him until your right back where you started, sprawled over his lap.

he’s so close to his own release, pained and restless, and you can feel the head rubbing against your clit. even in your state of pure exhaustion, you can’t help but grind down against him, and he lifts your hips enough for you to sink down on him.

your sounds of pleasure ricochet off of one another’s, animalistic contentment spilling from between two sets of equally swollen lips. you’re so full like this, rocking tiredly, backwards and forwards.

“just like that, baby. just like that.” he’s breathing heavily, brows furrowed. his head tips back, neck thick and flexed, and you’re thrown back into the deep end of your fantasy.

“oh my god.” you choke, tears of satisfaction building. “lando!” you cry, meeting his shallow thrusts. he’s guiding your hips up and down, just enough to hammer against that special spot that makes you whine his name.

“cum for me, baby, last one. know you can do it pretty girl.” the praise knocks the last bits of air out of you and you collapse forwards into his arms. he holds you tight, groaning sweet nothings and your name like a prayer, right in your ear.

“you’re definitely staying tonight.” lando laughs softly, coming down. you think back to your earlier refusal, grinning lazily.

“guest room?” you joke, kissing his shoulder.

he pulls you back so that he can look at you, cupping your face.

“you’re never staying in that room ever again.”

he kisses you, then. soft. warm. home.

it’s natural, everything you’ve been missing, and somehow the only thing you’ve been missing in your relationship with him. he already gave you everything you could ever need, tonight was the cherry on top.

“are we gonna be okay?” you whisper, so quiet that you can barely hear yourself. fear pools in your belly.

“i hope so. ‘cause i’m never letting you go now.”

-

i feel so warm inside hehe

-

taglist

@thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @charli123456789 @ln4norizz @formulaal

lemme know if you wanna be added or removed :)

[capseycartwright]

Saying "I love you" In-between kisses

Eddie had never been a lounging in bed kind of person. It hadn’t been allowed, when he was growing up – even at the weekend, there was sports to play, chores to do, and mass to attend. He’d never done much of that teenage oversleeping he lets Christopher indulge in, always out of bed by eight am, even during the holidays. He’d joined the army, and become a father in one breath, and so early mornings became the norm: Christopher had been an early riser, as a toddler, and then when he’d started school, the Diaz day had started at six am sharp.

The point was – Eddie rarely got to indulge.

He was indulging today.

They’d gotten back from Texas three weeks ago, and he’d been dating Buck for about three days. It had been a lot of life change all at once, and it had been perfect – coming back to LA had been coming home, and coming back to LA and to Buck had really been coming home. Neither of them had lasted very long before the confessions of undying love had come, exchanged quietly in the kitchen, Buck trying to decide which of their microwaves was the better one to keep, their house full of duplicates of just about everything.

Eddie had looked at him and not been able to hold it in any longer. He wanted this, him and Buck and mundane conversations about kitchen appliances for as long as he lived.

Burrowing himself underneath Buck’s fluffy, thick duvet (that had been an easy decision – Eddie had put his own bedroom set on Facebook marketplace the morning after they had gotten together, Buck’s mattress and duvet set up cloud-like. Eddie was not letting that go) Eddie let his eyes flutter shut, the distant whirl of the coffee machine telling him exactly where Buck was too.

(Hildy had been relegated to a cupboard, her convenient ways too good to get rid of – Buck’s fancy machine was out on the counter, there for days where Buck was willing to grind coffee beans, and steam milk, the sure sign of a perfect, slow morning.)

Christopher was still sleeping – Eddie didn’t need to look at the time to know that. It was a Saturday morning, after a busy week, they’d be lucky if he rose by lunchtime. Eddie didn’t mind. His kid was home, he and Buck were dating, and he was sleeping in a cloud. What more could he possibly ask for?

He felt Buck’s weight before he saw him, the clink of two mugs of coffee being set down on the nightstand the second indicator his boyfriend had returned. Gentle hands peeled back the duvet, Buck straddling Eddie, his curls soft against his forehead (the wonders of a silk pillowcase, Eddie had discovered – Karen had taught him that one), Buck wearing a grey t-shirt that had been cut off at the shoulders and pair of Eddie’s own sleep shorts, clearly having gotten dressed on his adventure to this kitchen.

“Hey, sleepy baby,” Buck hummed, his grin ever-present. They were definitely in the honeymoon stage, but Eddie figured it was allowed, only three days in. He pressed a soft kiss to Eddie’s lips, and God, Eddie was never going to get used to that – the fact that Buck was his, that he got to be on the receiving end of all the love and affection that Buck so freely gave.

“You got out of bed,” Eddie pouted. Maybe he was a bit of a baby.

“I did,” Buck hummed. “I made you a fancy coffee, though.”

Eddie glanced at the bedside table. “You did,” he relented. “I did have to wake up alone, though.”

“I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience,” Buck said dramatically. “How can I ever make it up to you?”

Eddie shrugged, somewhat petulantly, the duvet still tugged up to his chin. “No idea.”

“I can only apologise,” Buck hummed, pressing another kiss to Eddie’s waiting lips. “I love you,” he said, pausing to kiss again Eddie, longer, and deeper this time. “I love you,” he repeated, kissing Eddie for long enough this time that Eddie got lost in the feeling, letting Buck guide his mouth to where he wanted it to be, Buck’s tongue poking at the seam of Eddie’s mouth.

“Better?”

“Mm, almost.”

Buck laughed, but he kissed Eddie again. “I love you,” he sing-songed. “I love you, Eddie Diaz. I am so sorry I left you to wake up in bed alone,” kiss, kiss, kiss, and another for luck. “But I love you.”

Eddie wasn’t sure if ‘I love you’ accurately summed up the way he felt about Evan Buckley, but then again, he wasn’t sure if any language had managed to sum up the way he felt about Buck – how safe, and warm, and cared for he felt when he was with him, how Buck was so much more than the man he loved, how he was the other half of Eddie’s soul, the part of him he’d been searching for his entire life.

“I love you,” he kissed Buck, trying to pour every feeling he had into the embrace.

Buck hummed, rolling off Eddie as they broke apart, propping himself up against the headboard. He reached across Eddie for his coffee, making an agreeable noise as he took his first, and second sip.

Relenting, Eddie forced himself to sit up, taking the second mug. It really was good coffee, he though, the first sip delicious and caramel-like as he drank. “This is the perfect way to wake up,” he said softly, leaning against Buck. It was perfect – it was everything Eddie hadn’t ever thought he deserved, but selfishly, he wanted it forever.

Buck beamed at him. “It really is.”

That was how Christopher found them, a half an hour later, when he finally woke, their coffees long-since finished but the two of them still sitting peacefully in bed, Eddie half dozing as Buck scrolled through a news article on his phone. The image of his son standing sleepily in the doorway, a fond expression on his face, struck something deeper, in Eddie – he could imagine a few more kids standing at that doorway, with Buck’s curls and his bright blue eyes, could imagine the weight of a wedding band back on his finger.

It was a perfect fantasy – one he’d focus on later.

For now, he was having a quiet morning in bed with his family. It was perfect.

send me a physical intimacy prompt

[polydeuces]

𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚘𝚗𝚎: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯 ; Dexter Morgan x Fem! Reader (Cult Leader)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ; You linger in Dexter Morgan’s shadows, close enough to feel the darkness he hides so well. You know his secrets, his rituals, the thrill he keeps hidden from the world. Silently, you wait for that perfect moment to step into his path—so he can finally see that he’s been hunted all along.

𝔠𝔴 / 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 ; (688words) mentions of cults, stalking, potential violence, intrusive thoughts, and elements of psychological tension.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

He was supposed to be the predator.

You’d watched him for a year now, the man who walked through the world with an all too familiar blend of invisibility and quiet command. Dexter Morgan, a blood–spatter analyst by day and something far more dangerous by night. But those were his surface-level disguises. You’d begun to peel back the layers, unraveling the nuances of a man who navigated life in the shadows, just as you have for so many years now.

It started innocently enough—fleeting moments when you’d caught sight of him on the crowded Miami streets, merging into the sea of faces like he belonged there. But you knew better. You knew what it was to wear masks, to walk amoung people undetected, unseen and unnoticed. There was something about him, the way he looked at the world, made him all the more intriguing.

So you watched. Carefully, hidden, with a patience you’d honed over years of practice, you observed him as he slipped out of his office at night, slightly tense in his gaze, focused, distant, as if he were listening to something only he could hear. Often times, you’d follow him to the places he frequented; his home, abandoned warehouses, places where the thin line between light and darkness blurred. You learned his routines, the way he’d pull his signature black gloves onto his hands, the way his eyes would sweep across the streets with a meticulous attention to detail before stepping into his own hidden rituals.

It fascinated you.. his dance, this performance between worlds. His life was a careful balance of precision and secrecy. And then there were his victims. You’d seen him work, watched from the edges as he sized up those he deemed worthy enough. You hadn’t intervened— after all, it wasn’t about them. It was about him. You needed to understand his purpose, what drove him and what rulebook or code tethered him to this life.

You began to study his life beyond the night as well, picking up pieces of Dexter Morgan, the man, the father, the blood-spatter analyst, the widower, the mask. You’d slip into his world unnoticed, lingering at places he went during the day; you listened to his colleagues, his sister and the casual comments that painted a picture of someone, friendly, yet distant, the “nice guy” who kept to himself.

You learned his patterns, his preferences, even the small, old habits he indulged in when he thought no one was watching. You uncovered the Dexter he showed to the world, the façade that kept his true nature hidden.

But you could see it—the subtle tension in his jaw, the guarded look in his eyes that surfaced when someone got too close, the small tells of a hidden life. The knowledge inside you—the kind of intimacy that was both exhilarating and forbidden—you knew him in a way no one else did, knew him not by the lies he told, but by the silence he kept.

So, you kept waiting, biding your time. You wanted him to know that he been seen, that he wasn’t as invisible as he thought. You wanted him to understand that he was no longer the only one who lived by a code of shadows. You watched him for countless nights—slipping in and out of his world like a phantom, leaving a sense of unease that you knew would begin to gnaw at him.

Until finally, one night, you decided it was time.

do not repost/duplicate on other sites. © polydeuces 2024.

note; i have a taglist open for updates on this story—just let me know if you’d like your name added !

important; please keep in mind that the dexter character is not my own original creation; it’s inspired by the work of the creators behind the tv show.

[keithyp00]

・┆✦ʚ♡ Ghost Code ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!ex-hydra!reader

Warnings/Tags: mentions of: violence, trauma/PTSD, torture and experimentation and mind-control. brief mention of attempted suicide. nightmares, depression, mentions of Hydra, mild blood, slow burn romance, healing, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 3.0K

Author Note: Hello guys! Sorry I didn't post last night as well as sorry for posting this one so late :/. I hope you enjoy this one even though it's kind of a cliche but this has been in my drafts for a while and I finally had the inspiration to finish it so :)

Please do not copy or translate any of my works. Thank you!

The cold didn't bother you anymore.

You couldn't remember when it stopped mattering, when the numbness in your bones became part of your biology. When your cells are rewritten and twisted under needles and coercion, things like climate and comfort lose their meaning. So, when you stood barefoot in a puddle of melted snow at the edge of a collapsed Soviet-era bunker in Belarus, you didn't flinch.

You just waited.

Waited for orders. Waited for the voice in your head that no longer came.

Because they're all dead now, you had to remind yourself that. Hydra is dead. You're free.

But freedom didn't feel like freedom. It felt like silence. Unfamiliar. Heavy. Cold.

Your name had once been Y/N. At least, you thought it was. You whispered it sometimes at night, tracing the sound with your breath like prayer. But in the long decades trapped in cryo between missions, you'd been called other things: Asset 12. Variant Echo. The Mirror.

A design parallel to the Winter Soldier, but different. Meant to compliment him, control him. If Bucky Barnes had been Hydra's precision scalpel, you had been the hammer.

The serum had worked. They made sure of that. Strength, agility, rapid cellular regeneration. But Hydra didn't stop at making you strong. No. They made you lethal.

They gave you Reflection. That's what Dr. Kravchenko called it. A mimic-based neural weapon: if you saw someone use a skill, technique, or power, you could duplicate it- perfectly. Temporarily. Sometimes for seconds. Sometimes hours. The longer you watched, the longer you could hold it.

You'd once copied a telekinetic asset for sixteen minutes before your brain hemorrhaged.

Worth it, they said.

Because when you fought, you moved like them- like anyone. Like everyone.

And they sent you after ghosts. Targets like Barnes. Untraceable. Untouchable. Unstoppable.

You saw him once. Back in '89. He didn't remember. But you did. You'd never forget the look in his eyes. Not rage. Not purpose. Just- hollowness. The kind you can only wear after losing everything you never knew you had.

It was the same expression you saw in the mirror every morning.

~~~~~

It was Sam who found you first.

Well, not exactly. The mission was to dismantle the last of Hydra's remaining data catches buried in Kazakhstan. Your cryo pod had been sealed in the basement of an outpost, hooked to a nuclear-powered AI set to wake you if anyone came close.

The AI failed.

You woke anyway.

And you ran.

No orders. No handlers. No conditioning. Just you.

Three months passed. You stole, hid, slept in forests, watched cities from rooftops. Sometimes, you thought about walking into traffic or starving yourself just to stop feeling like a weapon on standby.

Then Sam found you.

He didn't try to capture you. He just sat on a bench. Talked. Waited. Like you were some injured animal that might get curious enough to come close.

"I'm not who they say I was," you'd whispered to him one night on a park bench in Budapest. "But I'm not someone else either."

"You don't need to be," he said. "You just need time. A name. And some space to find your own damn way."

He was your first friend.

~~~~~

That's how you met Barnes.

By then, Bucky was trying. He was healing- sort of. Therapy, small apartments, government tracking. He was mostly quiet, all awkward silences and apologies that he never actually voiced.

You both met in Sam's kitchen in D.C.

"You don't have to be afraid of me," you said first.

Bucky didn't look at you. Just stared at the cup in his hand. "I'm not."

You tilted your head. "But you recognize me."

His jaw clenched. "I remember missions. Flashes. The file that said you were dead."

"I thought the same about you."

When your eyes met, it wasn't hostile. It was tragic. A mirror, held too long between two people who only saw ghosts looking back.

~~~~~

You didn't get along, not a first.

He was guilt-ridden and private. You were feral in grief and defensive as hell. You trained at the same facility Sam brought you to. You'd spar with agents while Bucky glared from a chosen corner, arms crossed.

You fought like Natasha. Like Steve. Like him.

He hated watching it.

Because it reminded him of what you both were.

But one day, he asked.

"How long can you copy it?"

"Depends. Ten minutes max if I'm moving.

"And if I don't stop moving?"

"Then neither will I."

You fought for fourteen minutes straight. You passed out. He caught you.

~~~~~

Your second real conversation wasn't much of one.

It was a stakeout- low-tier arms dealer connected to Hydra. You and Bucky sat in silence, rain drumming on the rooftop above you.

"You ever sleep?" You asked.

"No."

You nodded. "Me neither."

"...Nightmares?"

"Worse."

He glanced over.

"Dreams where I'm happy," you said. "And then I wake up, and I remember I'm still here."

For once, he didn't offer advice, He just listened. Stayed.

That was enough.

~~~~~

Months passed. You learned to coexist. Then to fight side by side. Then to talk.

One night, after a mission gone sideways in Morocco, Bucky found you on the edge of a crumbling rooftop.

He sat next to you, soaked in blood and silence.

"I read your file," he said. "Everything they did to you. How many times they rewrote your brain."

You didn't respond.

He looked over. "You still think you're their weapon?"

"I was," you said. "That's all I've ever been."

Bucky shook his head. "Not anymore."

"How can you say that?"

"Because I was one too."

You finally looked at him.

"And you're still here," he added. "Still trying. That's not something weapons do."

~~~~~

The first time he touched your hand, it was an accident.

The first time he held it, it wasn't.

It happened during a debrief. Sam was scolding you- again- for going off mission parameters and nearly getting yourselves killed. You were still shaking. Your fingers curled tight into the seams of your jacket, jaw clenched hard enough to ache.

The Bucky's gloved hand slid over yours.

You didn't flinch. And you didn't let go.

~~~~~

You had your name again now. Y/N.

A home, sort of. Sam helped you set it up in a tiny brownstone three blocks from the river. You painted the walls yourself, picked a couch that didn't match anything, bought a toaster you didn't know how to use.

Bucky stopped by sometimes.

At first, it was to check in.

Then, it wasn't.

You learned that he liked his coffee black and that he never sat with his back to the door. That he liked books but didn't finish them. That he kept your photo on his nightstand- not a romantic one, just a snapshot Sam had taken when you were laughing, wind in your hair.

He said it reminded him that healing didn't always have to hurt.

~~~~~

You kissed once.

It wasn't planned.

You were hiding out in a safehouse, bodies aching, blood drying, adrenaline fading. He was patching up your arm, quiet and focused. You looked up and saw the concentration in his eyes, the way his brow furrowed just slightly when he was worried.

"Why do you care so much?" You asked.

He paused. Met your gaze. "Because I know what it means to feel unworthy of being saved."

Your breath caught.

He leaned forward- slowly, like you might bolt. You didn't.

The kiss was tentative. Warm. Painfully human.

You didn't know if it meant more. But it meant something.

~~~~~

You still dreamed of cold tiles and screaming metal.

Of numbers.

Of pain.

But now, when you woke, there were sometimes texts. From Sam.

Or a knock on your door. From Bucky.

And for the first time in your fragmented life, you didn't feel like a weapon on standby.

You felt like a person.

A broken one, yes. But not beyond repair.

Not anymore.

~~~~~

The knock on your door came at 2:17 a.m.

You were already awake.

The nightmares had been merciless that week- so vivid you could still smell gun oil and blood in your sheets. You'd taken to sitting on the floor in the corner of your bedroom with a knife in hand, your back pressed against the wall, knees pulled to your chest.

But when the knock came, you didn't move right away.

Because you knew it was him.

"Y/N," Bucky's voice was low, muffled through the door. "It's me."

Of course it was.

You dropped the blade, crossed the room, and unlocked the door without a word.

He looked like he hadn't slept either.

"You okay?" He asked.

You nodded, but he gave you that look- the one that said he knew you were lying.

"I had a dream," you admitted. "Not mine. One they gave me. The kind where I wake up and forget that it's over."

He didn't speak. Just stepped in and closed the door behind him.

You didn't expect the way he reached for you- not rough, not rushed, but deliberate. His hands touched your face, cradled your jaw, thumbs tracing the line of your cheekbones like he was grounding himself.

"I hate when you look like this," he said. "Like you're still trapped."

You swallowed hard. "I feel like I am."

"You're not."

Then he kissed you.

No hesitation this time. No chaos.

Just warmth. Gentle pressure. A silent promise.

You melted into it. Let yourself cling. Let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a version of you that wasn't just created for destruction.

He pulled back slowly, his forehead resting against yours.

"I don't want to be afraid to want something good," he whispered.

"You think I'm something good?" You whispered back.

He nodded. "You're the only thing that doesn't make me feel like a monster anymore."

~~~~~

You didn't sleep much that night. But not for the reason that people would assume.

You laid on the couch in your living room, your legs draped over his, your fingers tracing the metal of his vibranium arm while he stared up at the ceiling.

"You know," you started, "I used to think if I ever felt this close to someone, I'd ruin it. Or they'd ruin me."

"Maybe we're both already ruined," Bucky murmured. "But maybe we're still worth loving anyway."

You laughed softly. "You're getting good at this therapy thing."

"I stopped going."

"Why?"

"Because I talk more with you than I ever did with Dr. Raynor."

Your chest tightened. You turned, tucked yourself into his side, and closed your eyes.

"Okay," you said. "Then keep talking."

And he did.

He told you about the time he lost Steve in the war, and how he still dreamed of chasing him through fire. About the way he still couldn't sleep in a bed some nights, and how his neighbor's cat made him cry once by sitting on his porch for three hours straight.

You listened. And you told him things, too.

About the weight of mimicry. How sometimes you didn't know which movements were yours anymore.

And how his were the only hands you let touch you without flinching.

~~~~~

Your first mission together after that night was a blur of bullets, sweat, and unspoken tension.

You were sent to intercept a rogue lab in Lithuania, one that was housing modified versions of the serum. Most of the intel was useless. The building was a maze. Enemies were prepared. It should have gone sideways.

But it didn't.

Because you moved like one body.

You fought with his patterns, he mirrored yours. You covered each other's blind spots. At one point, you took a hit meant for him- caught a knife to the ribs.

He panicked.

"Y/N-"

"I'm fine," you gritted out, blood soaking your shirt.

"You're not fine."

He scooped you up before you could argue, carried you through the smoke and fire like she weighed nothing.

You didn't protest.

Didn't want to.

~~~~~

Later, in the extraction van, you leaned into him while Sam drove.

"You're warm," you mumbled.

"You're bleeding." Bucky shot back, but his arm curled tighter around you.

"You kissed me."

"I remember."

You looked up at him. "Do it again."

He did. Right there, in the back of the stolen van with Sam sighing heavily and muttering something about gross super-soldier PDA.

~~~~~

That night, he stayed with you.

You didn't speak much.

But in bed, his hand found yours beneath the blanket. Your fingers tangled, like wires, old and frayed but still carrying a current.

You could feel it.

The ache of maybe, The sting of something real.

~~~~~

Weeks passed.

It didn't fizzle out.

It deepened.

He started keeping a toothbrush at your place. You brought him black coffee and cinnamon rolls. You shared books and swapped stories they hadn't told anyone else.

He never said 'I love you.'

Neither did you.

Not yet.

But every time you woke up screaming and he was there to hold you- every time he caught your hand in the middle of a fight just to remind you he was real- it felt like the words were already there.

Waiting.

~~~~~

One night, they were sitting on your fire escape, legs dangling into the dark.

You glanced at him. "Bucky?"

"Yeah?"

"If they could undo all of this- everything in your head, everything you've done- would you let them?"

He didn't answer right away.

Then, slowly: "Not if it meant forgetting you."

You didn't cry. Not then. But you let yourself reach for his hand.

And this time, you held on tight.

~~~~~

Sam caught you in the kitchen at 9 a.m. on a Sunday.

"Jesus Christ," he said, stepping backward like he'd walked into an actual crime scene. "You could've warned me. That's my coffee table, man."

Bucky didn't flinch. Just kept pouring coffee into two chipped mugs like nothing had happened.

You, however, looked properly mortified from where you sat on the counter, wearing one of Bucky's henleys and exactly none of your own shame.

"Relax," you said coolly, hopping down. "We didn't touch the table. That's where your magazines go."

Sam narrowed his eyes. "I don't trust either of you."

"You never did," Bucky deadpanned.

"Because I know you. You're a disaster in a leather jacket. And you-" he pointed at you, "- you were built in a Hydra basement and somehow still think I can't take you in a fight."

"Because you can't," you said, hiding a grin behind your mug. "But I appreciate the confidence."

Sam groaned and walked away, muttering something about 'therapy bills' and 'ruined upholstery.'

~~~~~

You were a team now.

An official one.

After Lithuania, Fury approved your for joint deployment when needed- Winter and Warden, as Sam jokingly referred to you.

Your skills were brutal, efficient, too well-matched. And though no one said it aloud, people noticed you always returned from missions in one piece.

Together.

~~~~~

One evening after a quiet recon in Estonia, you returned to Louisiana to lay low. Sam insisted.

"You need a break," he said. "Both of you. And I need help fixing my sister's boat."

You looked at Bucky. "You ever fix a boat?"

"I fought a Nazi on one in 1943. Same thing."

Sam laughed from the front seat. "You're both idiots."

~~~~~

You worked on the boat all afternoon. Your power- and experimental Hydra derivative of the Super Soldier Serum- let you manipulate kinetic energy through your body like an amplifier. In close combat, it turned you into a living weapon. But today?

Today, you used it to lift the engine block with a flick of your fingers.

Sam stared at you, casually walked with the engine block propped on your shoulder. "I take back everything I ever said. You are a gift."

Bucky sat back on the dock, shirt halfway unbuttoned, oil on his metal fingers, watching you like you'd hung the sun.

And Sam noticed.

"You're gonna tell her?" He asked under his breath.

Bucky didn't look away. "Tell her what?"

"That you're in love with her, you emotionally repressed snowman."

Bucky's lip twitched. "I don't know if she's ready."

Sam elbowed him. "Maybe. But you are."

~~~~~

Later, after dinner, when the docks had quieted and the air had turned sweet with salt and pine, you found him sitting on the deck of the boat.

Alone.

Moonlight silvered his profile.

"Should I be worried?" You asked gently. "You look like you're about to brood yourself into another century?"

He smiled, barely. "Come here."

You walked to him slowly. Sat beside him. He reached for your hand like it was second nature now.

"I used to think," he started, "that I didn't really deserve this."

"This?"

"You. The peace. The softness. All of it."

You leaned into his shoulder. "I used to think that I was too broken to love anyone."

His arm slipped around you.

"We were wrong."

You nodded. "We were."

A pause.

Then- quiet, raw-

"I love you, Y/N."

You stilled.

Not because you didn't feel it. But because you did. So much you could barely breathe.

"I love you too, Bucky."

And the way he kissed you after that wasn't like your first, or your second.

It was slow. Reverent. A kiss from someone who had lost everything once and had finally found his place to land.

~~~~~

The next morning, Sam walked in on you again- fully clothed, curled up together under a blanket on the couch, fast asleep.

He stared for a long beat.

Then pulled out his phone.

Snapped a photo.

"Blackmail," he said to himself with satisfaction. "Priceless."

~~~~~

Later that day, you caught him smirking.

"You're up to something."

He shrugged. "Just enjoying your domestic villain redemption arc."

You rolled your eyes. "You're so lucky I like you, Wilson."

He grinned. "Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you keep that cyborg wrapped around your finger. He's better now, you know."

You glanced toward Bucky- standing at the grill, trying, and successfully, flipping burgers with his vibranium hand while muttering curses under his breath.

"I know," you said softly. "So am I."

[noirscript]

call avoidance.

Yandere Hotline: 3/?

featuring: implied drugging. implied tresspassing. lots of male masturbation. unsolicited phone sex (?). implied kidnapping. AFAB!Reader (yan calling reader mommy)

note: this is written while half-asleep. not edited. brain go brrr. i'll add the src some time.

Dealing with mad people can drive anyone insane. But if you're given a hefty sum to keep the insane ones company, you'll take. Life is tough, but you can choose your own hell.

"Got you some drink. Your favorite flavor," Heidi, your 'neighbor' in cubicle, said cheerfully as she placed the drink and sandwich on your spot.

"Well, who are we kidding." You shook your head before placing the plastic cup in your trash bin along with the tasty sandwich that came with it. "They're really persistent, you know?"

You smiled sheepishly as you arrange your cubicle to start a new day. Unlike your workmates, your place is quite neat and devoid of anything that would identify that spot as yours.

No personal images pinned on the corkboard. Not even a framed picture of whoever inspires you to get up and work hard without becoming insane yourself.

Upon accepting the job offer, you made sure to draw the most visible line to keep your personal life to yourself. You've heard some stories—some myths—about some agents disappearing without any trace overnight. Like they never existed in the first place.

"I hope they fuck off, you know?" You sighed before putting on your noise-cancelling headphones. "May we survive this shift," you grumbled as you wait for the first call with baited breath.

You have frequent customers. Most of them were pleasant to talk to. Let's just say that they're not exactly the dangerous type of callers. Those type clients were, most likely, drawn to the idea of being a 'yandere' as a fantasy. Sometimes, there's a hint of sexualization.

Almost every person on the floor are taking calls. Including you. However, your gut's been telling you to ignore the call. Maybe it's one of those unhinged callers who believes that you're theirs. Like they own you and all of your time.

You still have some available credits for call avoidance since you rarely used your credits. Surely, this one call will not affect your performance rating.

While waiting for the phone to stop ringing, you decided to clean up your work email. Being bombarded with useless newsletters about food and books on sale is the worse. Not only does it make your inbox crowded, it's also spammy.

You were fightung the urge to just select all and delete everything at once when you suddenly heard a notification. One after another.

One from your email, another one from your messaging app, and lastly—from the internal chatroom.

You opened the email with an attachment. It was a blank email but as soon as the preview for the attachment appeared, you almost gagged.

It was an image of a man's cock. There were translucent liquid splattered everywhere while the tip of his dick is on a cup—filled to the brim with iced coffee with foamy top. Your favorite.

Your hands were shaking as you exit the window of the website. You clicked the messaging app first. 'Perhaps it was just a promotional message from one of those companies.'

But no.

It was a message from a private number. You don't have any idea how they did it, but they kept sending you images. Most of them were blurry, but the ones with better quality almost made you vomit.

It was taken in a small room. At first, the room was dark, but eventually the image light up. His face was blurred, but you could clearly see what he was doing.

He was fucking your pillow. The one you've been using since you've moved in a better place with better security.

You were confused. And scared.

How could he easily enter your place? Your keys are with you and only the management has access to other duplicates.

"No way..." you whispered as you close the messaging app's window.

One bomb was dropped after another. And you knew something's off.

[NOTICE OF TERMINATION]

Due to multiple reports of call avoidance and drop calls, the management has decided to relieve you from your position as an agent effective immediately.

As we value your well-being, rest assured that you will be receiving your full payment for the next three months along with the other benefits that the company has sworn to provide you.

We sincerely appreciate your efforts for the last three years. We wish you all the best from this day forward.

You were devastated, yet relieved upon reading the letter. You've been wanting to receive this for months. It was the only way out of this place and this industry. You've also managed to save up a lot that you can start fresh somewhere. Far from this place.

Another phone call managed to bypass the automatic system of the place. You took a deep breath before accepting the call.

"Hello?"

"I can't... wait... haah..." the man on the line was clearly doing himself. By the eay he sounds, he's probably close. "We'll move to a big house... haah... hngg... a baby, a babyyy... nhnn... come home..."

Your eyes widened upon hearing your name. Not the screen name you gave them, but your legal full name.

"Let me... hngg... make you a mommy... d'you want that, huh?" You could a wet sloppy noises in the background. "Tiny baby... sucking on your tits... while I make a mess out of you?"

"Ap—"

"No need for... apologies..." he was breathing heavily. "I'll see you soon, okay?

"Heimdall."

He chuckled. "That's me, my princess... took you long enough to say my name."

"How did you get into my house?" you asked while gritting your teeth.

"Patience, my love. We could talk all about it once you're home. Should I get you something to eat? Chicken? Cake? Sandwich? Coffee?"

"I'm done with you."

You immediately pressed the end call button before gathering your things and left. Not even a farewell to your friends.

But there's something you should probably know.

Heidi can't wait to be an aunt and to be your sister-in-law!